The Case for Small: Why Intimate Weddings Capture More, Not Less

Fewer guests doesn't mean fewer memories. Sometimes it means more space for the ones that matter.

There's a quiet revolution happening in weddings. Couples are choosing beaches over ballrooms. Vows written at kitchen tables instead of recited from scripts. Guest lists of ten instead of two hundred.

And here's what I've witnessed: intimate doesn't mean less. It means more.

More presence. When it's just the two of you (and maybe a handful of your favorite humans), you're not hosting. You're not managing. You're not performing. You're just... there. Fully present for every moment.

More emotion. Without the pressure of a big production, emotions flow more freely. I've watched couples cry openly, laugh until they can't breathe, stop mid-ceremony to just hold each other. These moments happen when you're not worried about an audience.

More flexibility. Want to get married at sunrise and then get tacos? Hike to a waterfall between your ceremony and portraits? Change your mind about everything the morning of? You can. Your day bends to you, not the other way around.

More you. The quiet details emerge: the way you actually talk to each other, your inside jokes, the specific way you hold hands. These are the things that get lost in big weddings but shine in intimate ones.

More connection with your photographer. Instead of me racing through a shot list with 150 people to manage, we get to slow down. I learn your rhythms. You forget I'm there. The photos reflect not just what happened, but how it felt. I've photographed both big weddings and intimate elopements. And while both are beautiful, there's something irreplaceable about the small ones. They give you permission to focus on what actually matters: each other.

Thinking about an intimate ceremony in California? Let's talk about your vision.